


There's nowhere to go

by lovelywanderer



Series: Works inspired by poetry [2]
Category: SKAM (Norway)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Bipolar Disorder, Inspired by Poetry, M/M, Mental Health Issues, POV Isak Valtersen, POV Second Person, Parallel Universes, Suicidal Thoughts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-14
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-21 23:20:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30029409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovelywanderer/pseuds/lovelywanderer
Summary: You're sixteen, with a scowl on your face, sweat-stained clothes and too much stubbornness to carry. You're sixteen and while you've never believed in God, or any all-knowing higher power, you believe in science. However, despite the things you can touch, the things you can hear, you can’t shake the feeling that in every universe, you would have met Even.This is the universe you were given.(inspired by Richard Siken's "I had a dream about you")
Relationships: Even Bech Næsheim & Isak Valtersen, Even Bech Næsheim/Isak Valtersen
Series: Works inspired by poetry [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2209095
Kudos: 11





	There's nowhere to go

_ This is how the story goes. _

You're sixteen, with a scowl on your face, sweat-stained clothes and too much stubbornness to carry. You're sixteen and while you've never believed in God, or any all-knowing higher power, you believe in science. You believe in hard facts and new discoveries and the things you can see, and the things you will never get the chance to see because you're just a sixteen year old boy in Oslo, Norway. You believe in the sound of breaking plates as your mom throws them around the room, the sound of the door slamming carrying your fathers footsteps with them, you believe in heavy silence. Despite your love for facts, and security, and secrets, you can never shake the feeling that you are happening in tenfold. 

The world feels constantly expanding, small decisions seem monumental, and impossible situations seem almost likely, in another universe. So, despite the things you can touch, the things you can hear, you can’t shake the feeling that in every universe, you would have met Even. 

_ In one universe, there are no yellow curtains _ because there aren't any curtains at all. Instead you're in an open field with sunlight and laughter. The sun beats down on your skin, Even’s mouth on your jaw, your neck, your lips. The ground is still damp, and it soaks your sweatshirt as he rolls you around. There’s a shitty rap song in the background but neither of you wanna get up and turn it off. There's no Sonja, no crazy mother or responsibilities. It’s just you, Even, and orange flavored kisses.

He calls you beautiful and  _ you feel as if you are floating off of the ground.  _

* * *

_ In another universe you see him in a grocery store.  _ You're trudging behind Eskild as he goes on and on about how you never cook dinner. It’s domestic, and boring, and he sends you away to go find bread, because there's no way you could mess that up. You get completely lost in the cereal aisle, and you're about to call it quits, when a beautiful boy with a cigarette in hand invites you to smoke with him. Despite not knowing him, you take your chances, and sit on the curb of the grocery store with a beautiful boy and a cigarette for an hour. Eskild scolds you for never getting bread, but you think it may have been worth it. 

* * *

In yet another universe, Even was the boy next store. Your childhood was filled with the lanky blue eyed boy and morning cartoons, toaster waffles and treasure hunts. A fourteen year old version of yourself chases after Even, teeth out. You are pretending to be a vampire. Your teeth in his arm, your teeth on his neck, _ your teeth on his teeth _ . 

* * *

These universes are lies. 

Life never works out the way you want, not in your universe, or in any universe. 

In your universe you never checked your phone at the service. In your universe there is only Even lying on the ground. 

The world is red and birds circle overhead. 

The boy’s breathing is shallow, his heartbeat, the only sound in the world. You bring him to your home, the comforter you kissed him on a few days ago, the curtains that protected you from the world now trap you in a nightmare. Even’s bones are on display, his naked chest, his naked scars. You can never leave. Where is there to go? 

There's a hospital you could go to, but Even’s head is in your lap and his skin is warm and his eyes are closed. You can't close your eyes without seeing Even on the ground, Even on the bench, Even talking while you stare at your shoes. So you keep your eyes open as Even sleeps, head in your lap. So you stay in your universe, seconds from jumping, seconds from pulling each other back. Even would like your Romeo and Juliet ending if he wasn't living it with you. His shoes are on your feet, you sweatshirt on his body, the water is still. He tells you he isn't sick, he tells you he’s fine, he doesn't need your protection. He tells you this while dumping his pills in the sand, he tells you sometimes he wants to be dead. That’s the problem with tragic endings, we are made to think they are beautiful. Even slips through your fingers over and over and over again. And you wait. Every damn time. 

This is the universe you were given.

  
  



End file.
